Heracleidae (550-636)

of my readiness, freely do I offer my life for these, and without constraint.

Ah, this is even nobler than thy former word; that was matchless, but thou dost now surpass

thy bravery and noble speech. I cannot bid, will not forbid thy dying, Omy daughter! for[*] by thy death thou dost thy brothers serve.

A cautious bidding thine! Fear not to take a stain of guilt from me; only let me die as one whose death is free.

Follow me, old friend, for in thy arms I fain would die; stand by and veil my body with my robe, for I will go even to the dreadful doom of sacrifice, seeing whose daughter I avow myself.

I cannot stand by and see thee bleed.

At least do thou beg me this boon of the king, that I may breathe out my life in women’s arms instead of men’s.

It shall be so, unhappy maid; for this were shame to me to refuse thee honour due, for many reasons: because thou hast a soul so brave; because

’tis right; and thou hast shown more courage than any of thy sex my eyes have ever seen. Now, if thou hast aught to say to these children or thy aged guide, oh[*]! say the last thou hast to say—then go.

Farewell, old friend, farewell! and prithee teach

these children to be like thyself, wise at every point; let them strive no further, for that will suffice them. And seek to save them from death, even as thou art anxious to do; thy children are we, thy care it was that nurtured us. Thou seest how I yield my bridal

bloom to die for them. For you, my brothers gathered here, may you be happy! and may every blessing be yours, for the which my blood shall pay the price![*] Honour this old friend, and her that is within the house,

Alcmena, the aged mother of my sire, and these strangers too. And if ever heaven for you devise release from trouble and a return to your home, remember the burial due to her that saved you, a funeral fair[*] as I deserve; for I have not failed,

but stood by you, and died to save my race. This shall be my pearl of price instead of children, and for the maiden life I leave, if there be really aught beyond the grave—God grant there may not be! For if, e’en there, we who are to die shall find a life of care,

I know not whither one shall turn; for death is held a sovereign cure for every ill.

Maiden of heroic soul, transcending all thy race, be sure the fame that thou shalt win from us, in life, in death, shall leave the rest of women far behind;

farewell to thee! I dare not say harsh words of her to whom thou art devoted, the goddess-daughter of Demeter. [Exit Macaria.] Children, I am undone, grief unnerves my limbs; take hold and support me to a seat hard by, when ye have drawn my mantle o’er my face, my sons.

For I am grieved at what hath happened, and yet, were it not fulfilled, we could not live; thus were the mischief worse, though this is grief enough.

All hail, ye children! Where is aged Iolaus? where the mother of your sire, absent from their place at this altar?

Here am I, so far as I can be present at all.

Why dost thou lie there? Why that downcast look?

There is come a sorrow on my house, whereby I am distressed.

Arise, lift up thy head.

I am old, and all my strength is gone.